


Playing House

by Niaa



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Child Abuse, Dark, Drama, F/M, Family, Moriarty has a Child, simply because a madman is raising him, though the child is not completely innocent either
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 06:50:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5038069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niaa/pseuds/Niaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little Edward Moriarty was only six when his father abandoned him. Who could blame the little boy for being upset when he was torn away from the only parent he had ever known? It is expected for a distressed child to seek attention of those around him, so really Jim shouldn't have been surprised when he received an urgent call from his son's boarding school, saying that the now eight year old boy had been found under the body of a security guard, still holding the knife that killed the man. </p><p>What else was the offspring of the criminal mastermind to do when left to his own devices? As far as Edward is concerned, it was entirely Jim's fault that he had to kill the security guard to get his father's attention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing House

**Author's Note:**

> So this has been swimming in my head since the beginning of this year. Finally I started putting it on paper. So yeah, we will see how this goes.
> 
> I was just too intrigued by the idea. Moriarty would be a terrifying father, but also a pain in the ass in more ways than one. Can you imagine living with all those dramatics? So much excitement. 
> 
> Tell me what you think :3 I am always thankful for all of your feedback.

Jim never saw the need to tie himself to something so useless and fragile as his own offspring. Parenthood was such a sentimental notion that the mere thought of it brought bile to the consulting criminal’s throat. 

So he never bothered. Sex had lost most of its appeal in his early twenties and now it remained an act he only indulged in on occasion. It was a distraction from everything else. The waves of heat and pleasure coursing through his body as he subjected himself to the control of a very skilled dominatrix served as a good enough divergence from his thoughts. On occasion.

Of course Irene was hardly the only one who had entertained him over the years. There were others, men and women who were too afraid of him. He could smell the fear on them, the trembling of their limbs as they tried to please him and take control of the situation as he directed. It was disgusting. Not that Irene didn’t _fear_ him. The woman was not a complete idiot like most others who inhabited the planet. He could tolerate her well enough on those rare visits. She was smart enough to see the intricacies of the world that most missed, but lacked the ambition to act on the information that she managed to get her hands on. Which made her nothing more than an amusement he chose to partake in every few months. 

On one particular afternoon when Jim almost forgot about the woman’s existence, his trusty right hand slid a document across the large mahogany desk at which he sat. 

The criminal mastermind frowned, eyeing the piece of paper that distracted him from the ever-tedious endeavor of going through paperwork. 

“I think you will want to see this, Sir,” Sebastian stated quietly before retreating to his previous position close to the door of the study. 

A distasteful expression found it’s home on Jim’s face as he put down the page he was currently holding to bring his attention to an entirely different document. Already, he didn’t like it. 

The document in question that Sebastian presented were medical records of an upcoming abortion for one Susan James. It only took him a second to remember that it was one of the aliases that Irene used, his knowledge of which the dominatrix was not aware of. 

A long pause followed as Jim leaned back in the leather armchair, simply looking. Irene was with child, a child who was currently thee weeks old. It could have very well been a coincidence, but Jim knew better than anyone else that there were no such things. 

“Sebastian,” the man finally spoke after a long pause, his quiet voice holding a certain chill. “Bring me the DNA of that fetus,” he ordered as he threw the papers across the desk. 

He sat there for a long time unmoving after the soldier left the room, closing the door behind himself. Jim had to be sure. Exactly three weeks had passed since he last paid a visit to Irene’s townhouse and he didn’t like those odds at all. 

An unpleasant sour taste made itself known in the criminal’s mouth. The woman should have never been so careless. Nevertheless, she was not a complete imbecile and was taking care of the issue without a single word to him. Assuming that the child was his, of course. The timing lined up too perfectly for it not to be though. 

So why exactly was he feeling so angry? It was a silly little mistake that was in the process of being fixed. Something that didn’t deserve anything more than a raised eyebrow from him. 

Irene Adler wanted to destroy something that was rightfully his. 

The last thought made the man as still as stone, freezing him in place as a wave of fury was born deep within him. What right did she have to harm something that belonged to him?

Jim’s face twisted into an ugly grimace, his right hand curling into a tight fist before relaxing once again. No, he could not let himself be so overwhelmed by these _feelings_ when he didn’t even have the proof in front of him yet. 

All these thoughts could be for nothing after all. But the universe was rarely so lazy and in that very rare moment the man had to remind himself that he was too smart to be pulled into this swirl of uncontrolled rage without sound reasoning. 

He had to wait. Patience was a virtue, one he had developed many years ago. 

A few days had passed and Jim almost forgot about the issue completely before Sebastian was sliding another piece of paper over his desk. 

The criminal mastermind was situated in his London apartment once again, going through the tedious task of looking through paperwork. 

There it was, right in front of him. A 98% percent match. Ms. Adler would have been asked to come in for another checkup, just to make sure that her health was in prime condition before the abortion was to take place. Everything would have been thoroughly checked and the DNA sample of the fetus would have been taken in the process without the woman’s knowledge. Nothing difficult there, just a small threat placed by Sebastian would have made the doctor cooperate. 

And Jim was distracting himself with the tedious details of the operation. 

“Sebastian,” a tone of command entered his voice, all grammaticism that might have been present on his features a minute ago completely gone. “I think it’s time we paid a visit to Ms. Adler.”

That was how he had ended up sitting alone in the dominatrix’s darkened living room that night, the only source of light a small lamp on the table beside him. Jim looked quite foreboding as he waited, a grim expression plastered on his face. 

Irene didn’t look the least bit deterred when she finally entered her house to find the most dangerous man in the world had already invited himself in. 

“Hello, my dear,” he drawled in greeting, catching her gaze with his. “I’m here to talk about my child.”


End file.
